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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27504772">when shadows still remain</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andryka/pseuds/Andryka'>Andryka</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Episode: s15e18 Despair, Fix-It, M/M, Temporary Character Death, cosmic consquences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 03:15:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,702</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27504772</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andryka/pseuds/Andryka</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When he finally does meet Dean’s gaze, the fleeting moment doesn’t bring the relief Dean thought it might. Instead, it makes his heart hurt, and it’s not even Billie’s weird witchy magic crap this time, it’s the ache of regret. It makes his lower lip tremble, makes it burn just to breathe, because Dean realizes now that this really is all his fault, and Cas is going to die.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. divergence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I own nothing. No beta, let me know if you see anything weird and I'll fix it ASAP!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Everybody’s gonna die, Cas. Everybody. I can’t stop it.”</p><p>
  <em> Bang. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Bang. </em>
</p><p>Dean’s gaze jumps up- <em>I</em><em>s this it?</em></p><p>Not yet.</p><p>He steps around the chair, closer to Cas, and tries to steady his racing thoughts.</p><p>“She’s gonna get through that door.” It’s a grim statement, made all the more foreboding by Cas’s assent.</p><p>“I know.” He can’t seem to meet Dean’s eyes. </p><p><em> Look at me, look at me, I can’t do this alone, Cas, please- </em> “And she’s gonna kill you, and then she’s gonna kill me.” When he finally does meet Dean’s gaze, the fleeting moment doesn’t bring the relief Dean thought it might. Instead, it makes his heart hurt, and it’s not even Billie’s weird witchy magic crap this time, it’s the ache of <em> regret </em> . It makes his lower lip tremble, makes it burn just to breathe, because Dean realizes now that this really is all his fault, and Cas is going to <em> die </em> because Dean brought him here even though he knew better, he did, but he was so <em> angry </em>-</p><p><em> Bang. </em>And fucking Chuck help him, Dean jumps at the sound and lowers his head. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” he whispers. It’s not enough, not by a long shot, but it’s all he has. What else is there to say? They’re dead already. It’s just a matter of moments, now. </p><p>"Wait." One word, and Dean dares to hope.</p><p><em>"</em> There is-" Cas's forehead crinkles up in thought. "There's one thing she's afraid of. There's one thing strong enough to stop her," he says. Dean swallows his fear in the silence that follows, only to be dealt a new blow.</p><p>"When Jack was dying, I... I made a deal to save him," Cas admits, and a pit opens right up in Dean's stomach.</p><p>"You what?" he asks, horrified.</p><p>"The... The price was my life." </p><p>
  <em>No.</em>
</p><p>"When I experienced a moment of true happiness, the Empty would be summoned and it would take me forever."</p><p>
  <em>Cas, why? How could you do this? Why didn't you tell me before we ended up <strong>here</strong>?</em>
</p><p>"Why are you telling me this now?" Dean asks, knowing that whatever the answer is, he doesn't want to hear it.</p><p>Cas suddenly seems more alive than he has in months, a manic energy starting to bubble at the edges of his voice and tinging it with something electric and inevitable.</p><p>"I always wondered since I took that burden, that curse, what it could be. What my true happiness could even look like. I never found an answer. Because the one thing I want..." he looks at Dean in a way Dean can't begin to decipher, almost like he's searching for something in the lines of his face or the strange constellations of his freckles across his cheeks before he shakes his head once, sadly. "It's something I know I can't have."</p><p>And <em>oh,</em> Cas <em>smiles </em>at Dean, he smiles and it hurts to look at him and Dean can't imagine ever looking away because this feels bigger than Billie, bigger than Chuck even.</p><p>"But I think I know... I think I know now. Happiness isn't in the having. It's in just being... it's in just saying it." And it's not making sense, the sad smile and the electricity and <em>Cas-</em></p><p>"What are you talking about, man?" Dean asks shakily.</p><p>"I know." Cas says simply. "I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You're destructive, and you're angry, and you're broken. You're- you're 'Daddy's blunt instrument'. And you think that hate, and anger, that, that's what drives you. That's who you are."</p><p>Christ, if Cas's words don't cut Dean straight down to white bone, laying bare every thought Dean has had in his darkest moments, the pain and blood and useless destruction he lives on repeat in his mind every day wishing he was <em>good</em>. </p><p>It hurts.</p><p>Cas isn't done. "It's not," he says, certain even as tears begin to form in his eyes from the strength of his conviction. "And everyone who knows you sees it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for <em>love</em>. You raised your little brother for love. You fought for this whole world for love. That is who you are." His voice chokes up and clouds with something that, directed at Dean, feels like a hazy sort of benediction, an absolution he knows he doesn't deserve.</p><p><em>Bang.</em> Cas doesn't even acknowledge the imminent mortal danger behind him. </p><p>"You're the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless, <em>loving</em> human being I will ever know." Cas pauses, pressing his lips together, and Dean can tell he's going to say something more, but he doesn't know why Cas is saying any of this, unless...</p><p>"You know, ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of Hell, knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam. I cared about Jack. I cared about the whole world because of you." Cas is crying in earnest now, but his eyes have never left Dean's face. "You changed me, Dean."</p><p>And Dean thinks he knows, now. "Why does this sound like a goodbye?" he asks, dreading Cas's answer because they are on some precipice now that there is no coming back from once they jump, and he can't take it anymore.</p><p>"Because it is," Cas says, and <em>no, no, this can't be happening</em>, and then Cas says the worst thing of all.</p><p>"I love you." He means it.</p><p>
  <em>Cas, you can't leave me again. </em>
</p><p><b>"</b>Don't do this, Cas," Dean begs. He just needs Cas to stop, stop talking, he needs Cas to <em>stay</em>. There has to be another way out, a way where Cas doesn't sacrifice himself for Dean <em>again </em>and leave him behind, and why isn't his brain <em>working?</em></p><p>There's a sound behind him like nothing he's ever heard before, and when he looks Dean feels a kind of horror he can only identify as primordial, because that blackness, that writhing void is cosmically <em>wrong</em> in a way that feels like fractals spidering off in his brain when it fucking moves.</p><p>It takes everything in him to turn his back on it again, to look at the angel instead, but the door flies open. Billie is there, and she is angry.</p><p>"Cas," Dean tries, but he is frozen and no words form after his name because Cas grips Dean's shoulder with his hand- the bloody hand he sliced open without hesitation to save Dean not even five minutes ago, the hand that pulled Dean out of hell, the hand that has touched him so many times since then Dean has lost count.</p><p><b>"</b>Goodbye, Dean." Cas pushes him away, hard. Dean stumbles and falls to the ground against the wall.</p><p>Cas is looking at him. Not at the Shadow, not at Billie, just looking at Dean through his tears with love radiating off him, and a trace of something wistful in his half-smile. Several things happen very fast.</p><p>First, Dean's brain is suddenly online again.</p><p>Second, the entity reaches out and engulfs Billie in blackness.</p><p>Third, it reaches an arm of the same oily substance that swallowed Billie out at Cas.</p><p>Fourth, Dean does something very, very stupid.</p><p>He'll laugh about it much later, sure.</p><p>But in the moment, the thing almost has Cas, and Cas isn't moving.</p><p>Dean launches himself between them, throwing his arms around Cas and screwing his eyes shut when the cold thing touches his back.</p><p>"No!" Cas shouts, desperation coloring his voice as it cracks, trying to shove Dean away again, but it's too late.</p><p>The Shadow takes them both, its prize <em>and</em> a strange, willing sacrifice, and closes the portal as it goes, leaving behind a bare room and Dean's buzzing other, other cellphone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm making up a new ending here- I hope you enjoyed this little offering! The first real plot chapter will be up soon.  Expect around 8-9 chapters after this. Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Form and Void</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The drive back to the bunker is swift and eerie, and Sam knows now it definitely wasn’t just them. The roads, which had been packed with traffic just this morning, are empty except for the abandoned cars left stranded on the side of the road or twisted into hunks of cheap glittering metal and glass after crashing into each other with no drivers behind their wheels, and no passengers either. The drive down SR-36 takes barely half the time it should- Jack has a bit of a lead foot, and it’s not like there’s anyone left to stop them for speeding.</p><p>It’s kind of awesome how well the kid is keeping it together, all things considered. Jack glances sideways at Sam from time to time, trying to gauge his plan (or lack thereof) with a sweet concern for his emotions. Blessedly, he doesn’t say anything during the drive other than asking for directions to the nearest gas station when their tank is nearly empty about two hours out of Lebanon. Sam wants to scream and cry and curse at Chuck and beg for his help, but he swallows the urge because he knows it can’t possibly help him. Besides, he has a terrible feeling that that’s exactly what Chuck wants. Chuck wants him to follow his stupid script. But he won’t, so he tries to distract himself with research- though what could possibly fix this he doesn’t know. He just wants to do something, anything, to make the ache in his heart where Eileen was hurt less. </p><p>It’s not enough. But he tries. </p><p>He quickly realizes he isn’t going to miraculously find an answer on the internet. Maybe once they get to the bunker, he’ll find something in their library. In the seven years they've lived there, Sam feels like he’s only just begun to scratch the surface of the knowledge gathered there. He breathes a sigh and tucks his phone back in his jacket pocket and tries to stop his bouncing knee.  </p><p>“You need to get on 281, Jack. On the right,” he says, hearing himself as if from a great distance. They’re nearly there, and Dean still hasn’t called him back. It’s been almost four and a half hours since they left the uselessly warded silo outside De Moines and started the race back home. It’s been radio silence all the way. Literally. When Sam tried to turn on the radio in the car, desperate for a distraction, all that came out was a piercing static. On <em> every </em> station. He’d turned it off and left it that way. </p><p>“I know the way, Sam,” Jack answers cautiously. They’ve gone this way hundreds of times. He might not have been the one driving, then, but he knows how to get home.</p><p>Sam flexes his gun hand in his lap and clenches it back into a fist. He doesn’t seem angry, just… lost. </p><p>He doesn’t look at Jack, but keeps staring out the window as the world races by. Taking in the gleaming, bloodless carnage around them as they turn off the highway into Lebanon and speed through the town, he has a moment of clarity. </p><p>
  <em> This couldn’t have been Billie. No way she has that kind of mojo. There’d be bodies everywhere. This is bigger than her. It had to have been Chuck. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Fuck. Could he have really killed the whole world? </em>
</p><p>“Jack?”</p><p>“Yeah?” he answers. “We’re almost there.”</p><p>“No, I know,” Sam says. “I think we need to be… ready.”</p><p>“Ready for what?” Jack asks slowly, glancing over at Sam and turning onto the dirt road that led to the bunker. The tires bounce and slide a little in the mud leftover from last night’s rain, but Jack handles it easily. </p><p>“We need to be prepared for the worst,” Sam says, tense and rubbing his hands through his hair. “The people in town, on the road- they’re all gone. You saw it too. We have to be ready-” he pauses, working around the sudden lump in his throat. “Dean, and Cas… they’re probably gone too.”</p><p>“Why, though?” Jack asks, parking the car and getting out. Sam follows.</p><p>“Why what?” he asks, digging his keys out of his pocket and unlocking the bunker door. </p><p>“Why would Billie kill them? I mean, why would she kill everyone and <em> not </em>us?” he asks plaintively and follows Sam through the door. “It doesn’t make any sense.”</p><p>“That’s because it wasn’t her,” Sam growls, racing down the stairs. </p><p>“Do you think it was-”</p><p>“Chuck,” Sam interrupts. “It had to be.” He strides into the room with the map table, eyes darting around the room and searching for any sign of life. “Dean!” he shouts, to no response. “Cas! Castiel!”</p><p>Over behind the bookshelves, the door is ajar. “Sam, there, I think they went that way!” Jack exclaims and sprints down the hall, Sam close on his heels.</p><p>7B’s door is open.</p><p>“Cas!” Jack shouts, bursting into the room only to find... nothing. “No, no!” he pleads with the air as he skids to a stop and Sam bumps into him, making him stumble over the chair sitting in the middle of the room. Sam steadies them with a hand on Jack’s upper back before clapping him with it apologetically and stepping away.</p><p>“Wait, is that Dean’s phone?” Sam asks, moving over to squat by the wall and pick up the cell.</p><p>The upper corner of the glass has spiderwebbed with cracks, but it’s still working. The screen lights up and shows all of the missed calls from the past couple hours. Sam stands and leans on the wall, unlocks the phone and starts searching the most recent texts and the call log for any hint about what could have happened to Cas and Dean, but nothing stands out</p><p>“Hey, Sam?” Jack suddenly asks.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Um. There’s blood on the door?” Jack replies, voice going a little weird on the word ‘blood’. He walks away from the door and deeper into the room, going around the chair. </p><p>“Shit,” Sam swears, stalking over to the door, the useless cell forgotten in his hand. “Yeah, that’s a blood sigil, alright,” he sighs. “What the hell?”</p><p>It’s not a sigil he’s seen before.</p><p>What were they doing in this room?</p><p>Where did they go?</p><p>What the <em> fuck </em> happened here?</p><p>“Oh, gross,” Jacks says from behind him. “There’s blood on the floor behind the chair too. Up against the wall.”</p><p>“Seriously?” Sam asks incredulously. </p><p>“Wait.” Jack says, his voice flat. “That’s not… I don’t think that’s blood, Sam.”</p><p>They crouch down next to the oily black patch of wet ooze, confused.</p><p>“Should I, I don’t know. Touch it?” Sam asks. </p><p>“No, don’t,” Jack says. He’s gone as white as a sheet. “I know what it is. I think.” </p><p>“Ok, are you gonna tell me?” Sam asks when Jack’s pause drags on with no sign of stopping. </p><p>He groans and sits down, running his hands over his face. “Yeah, I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I’ve seen this before.”</p><p>Sam sits down heavily. “When?”</p><p>“I- when I was dead. When I was in Heaven,” Jack says hesitantly. “When I was in heaven, and Cas came to bring me back, we were attacked.”</p><p>“Angels?” Sam asks.</p><p>“No. Not really. It looked like one of the angels, Duma, but it wasn’t her,” Jack says. “It was this… <em> entity </em> . It was from the Empty. It wanted, well, <em> me </em>. And it was going to take me away, but Cas fought it. He-” Jack shudders and closes his eyes for a moment. “He made a deal. To save me.”</p><p>“And?” Sam asks, his heart sinking.</p><p>“I think it came to collect.” </p>
<hr/><p>When Billie dies as the Empty swallows her up, for a moment, there is no Death.</p><p>Then Dean grabs onto Cas, and they die together in the Empty's grasp, yanking them away and shoving them into sleep, deep into never-ending nightmares and swirling regrets.</p><p>Then something shifts, something <em>cosmic.</em></p><p>It wakes him up, light burning him up from the inside and remaking him anew.</p><p>His wings are restored, his grace multiplied a thousandfold. It's so much, it almost feels like when he was God.</p><p>Castiel wakes up, and he knows that those <em>consequences </em>Billie mentioned are real.</p><p>Castiel, the former self-hating Angel of Thursday, is no more.</p><p>In the void, a new being takes his place.</p><p>The Angel of Death.</p>
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